


The Land Of Gods And Monsters

by CaseNumber825



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arkham Asylum, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Inaccurate Depictions of Mental Illness, M/M, Nygmobblepot Week 2017
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 20:03:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10315937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaseNumber825/pseuds/CaseNumber825
Summary: The GCPD have decided that Edward Nygma's skills and expertise might be better suited to aiding the enigmatic Professor Hugo Strange with his 'patients' at Arkham Asylum. Though thrilled at the idea of a new challenge, Edward soon realises that his plans are going to have to change when it turns out that he has more of a history with one of his assigned patients than he ever thought possible.AU from Series 2, Episode 7 - Mommy's Little MonsterWritten for Nygmobblepot Week 2017 - Day 3 - Arkham





	

“Ah, Mr Nygma, welcome. Please, do have a seat.”

Edward Nygma walked slowly into the brightly lit office. He took a quick glance at the filing cabinets on the left wall, wondering briefly if Professor Strange’s filing system was as terrible as poor Miss Kringle’s. After his initial curious glance around the office itself, he finally fixed his gaze on his new employer and took the proffered seat. No handshake had been offered. Was that normal of Professor Strange, or did he feel that Ed wasn’t worthy of being offered a courtesy handshake. He frowned briefly, before shaking the intrusive thoughts away. Now wasn’t the time. Instead he offered a pleasant smile, and greeted the man in front of him.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Professor Strange,” He began, “I hear you’ve been doing wonderful work with the patients here at Arkham. It must be a fascinating place to work?” Ed took Strange’s raised eyebrows as a sign that his question needed expansion, “I mean to be in such close proximity of people like this. To be able to study how their minds work, to figure out what impulses drive the criminally insane to do what they do. I know I certainly can’t wait to begin assisting you with your work” _Pfft, ‘assisting’, I could probably do this man’s job a thousand times more efficiently, and with better results, than he could ever hope to achieve._

Professor Strange smiled, “Yes, Mr Nygma, it certainly is a fascinating area of study. Though most would be put off by being so close to people who have tortured and ended countless innocent lives, does that not bother you?”

Ed let out a chuckle under his breath. Why would it bother him? He’d already killed and dismembered two people himself. But of course he couldn’t tell this man about that. So he set his mouth in a firm line and replied, working a hint of worry into his tone, “Surely, Professor, the criminals in this building are all secured. And I know you have armed guards stationed on every floor and in every wing. I think I’m probably safer in this building than I would be out on Gotham’s streets.”

“Yes, yes, Mr Nygma, you are quite right.” The Professor answered, that same tight lipped, irritatingly knowing smile ever-present on his face. The look in his eyes was intense, and Ed felt as though his every move was being studied, as though the man already suspected that something was off about him. The room was silent for just a moment before the man got to his feet abruptly, chair legs scraping against the floor in a way that set Ed’s teeth on edge. “I believe you’re going to be a wonderful addition to our little family here at Arkham, I’m pleased in the GCPD’s choice to transfer you here.” He moved around the desk to stand in front of Ed, “Now, would you like to meet some of the patients you’ll be assisting me with?”

***

Ed was right, being at Arkham was already proving to be far more fascinating than working at the GCPD. So far Professor Strange had introduced to three of the four patients he’d be assisting with.

First up was Sharon. A young woman in her late twenties. The first thing Ed noticed about her was the wild look at her eyes as they darted around her small cell. Her fingers were clenched in the Arkham dress she wore, so tight that her knuckles had gone white. Strange informed him that she’d been diagnosed as a kleptomaniac, possibly brought on by her obsessive compulsive disorder and she’d been brought in to Arkham after she mutilated a young man that had dared to take one of her stolen ‘possessions’. Ed remembered the body well. She’d done quite a number on his face and neck with her own fingernails before she used a dagger to rip open his stomach. There’d been no finesse to the murder and no attempt at a clean-up.  It was purely rage motivated and Ed was excited to figure out where that rage stemmed from and if it was only brought about when someone interfered with her stolen goods.

Next up was Aaron Helzinger. He was a giant brute of man with an intellect lower than that of an average seven year old. Extremely quick to anger, but slow to do anything else. All of this, unfortunately for the man, made him an excellent candidate when it came to other criminals hiring a ‘tank’, for lack of a better word, as protection. As evidenced, Ed recalled, by his brief stint as a member of the ‘Maniax’ group. He was sleeping when they looked at him through the reinforced glass wall of his cell. Helzinger, Strange had said, had brutally murdered his own family with his bare hands. The details were, however, sketchy at best and the man in the cell was not particularly forthcoming with explanations or reasoning. It would take some time, Ed theorised, but he would get to the bottom of Helzinger’s fits of anger.

His third patient was a man named Norton. As they’d walked closer to the glass, the man behind it had immediately run to press his body against it, his tongue darting out and curling up, as though trying to taste the two of them. Strange had threatened him with the electricity field, an option that came as standard on all of these cells, and eventually the wild haired man had backed off, though that predatory smile remained plastered across his face. A cannibal, Strange had told him after a moment. They’d had a few incidents with him and the other inmates in the time he’d been incarcerated. Nothing overly serious, he been assured, just a couple of missing ears and one bitten off fingertip. Apparently Mr Norton preferred his human flesh cooked, not raw, and as Arkham hadn’t given him any facilities in which to prepare and cook his preferred meals, his cravings had gone unsatisfied. Strange also noted that, interestingly, the man was very protective of those he considered friends and enjoyed frequent cuddles in the recreation room. This man, Ed concluded, was absolutely fascinating. What made him consider certain inmate’s friends, and other’s a potentially tasty meal? The choices seemed random, but Ed was convinced there was something else to it.

That left one last patient to meet. Ed thought Strange would be hard-pressed to find someone that would fascinate him more than Mr Norton. The corridor seemed endless, just rows of identical cells, each one housed an inmate and did nothing to silence the ones that enjoyed screaming. If you weren't already insane, a few weeks of listening to that all day and night would eventually drive you that way. Eventually they turned on to a more secluded wing. The doors of these particular cells were made of reinforced stainless steel. No one could see in, and no one could see out. A letterbox type opening was visible in the upper half of the door, while a larger covered opening was on the bottom half, presumably for meals.

“Professor, forgive me, but I thought they requested I assist with the patients that had a chance of rehabilitation?” Ed queried,

“Yes, that’s correct”

Ed furrowed his brows, “But, sir, surely these cells are for your most dangerous of inmates. The ones that are unfit for any form of human contact?” He wasn’t convinced of that practice anyway, but that wasn’t for him to question right now.

Professor Strange simply smiled, “Usually, my dear boy, you’d be quite right.” They came to a stop in front of one of the cells, “However, this is a rather special case. He’s been part of an,” Strange paused here, seemingly searching for the right word, “experiment of sorts. It’s been quite successful I must say. Though, unfortunately, it’s left him with terrible nightmares.” He frowned and shook his head, almost as though he felt sympathy for the inmate behind the door, “We’ve had to temporarily put him in to isolation. His screaming and crying was putting the other patients on edge and that just wasn’t helpful for anyone. I’m hoping this will sort itself out eventually as his progress has been fantastic so far. Perhaps, this is something you can help with?”

Ed nodded, “I understand. Certainly, if there’s something I can do to help the poor soul, I will try my best” He was good at laying on the fake sympathy. Honestly he was more concerned with studying and manipulating these minds, not necessarily helping them.

Strange clapped a hand on his shoulder, “Excellent! Now, shall we meet him?”

He opened the cell door without waiting for confirmation, and there was nothing Ed could do to stop the sharp intake of breath and who he saw inside and he tried not force his expression back to neutrality so as to not alert Professor Strange.

There on the bed, eyes glazed and unfocused, knees pulled up to his chest in order to make himself look as small as possible, was former mob boss and self-proclaimed ‘King of Gotham’, Oswald Cobblepot, a.k.a. Mr Penguin.

**Author's Note:**

> So this has technically been written for Nygmobblepot Week, however, I'm using the prompt to create a multi-chaptered story. Hopefully I'll have a new chapter up weekly, but my frequency is subject to change.
> 
> Title comes from Gods and Monsters by Lana Del Rey (which always gives me Nygmobblepot vibes from Oswald's POV for no real reason)
> 
> Find me at my [tumblr](http://casenumber825.tumblr.com/)


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